A Harry Potter story by hairyhen
Chapter 6: Found
The howling wind around her ceased, and Ginny felt her feet come in contact with solid ground. She staggered, nearly collapsing from the force of the impact.
Her wand slipped from her hand and clattered to the floor. She reached down quickly to pick it up, drawing the Invisibility Cloak securely around her. If anyone had heard the noise--
Heart pounding, she held her breath, listening for any indication that she had been discovered--but none came. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she took a good look at her surroundings, feeling a chill run through her at the sight.
What was this place?
It was very old, that much was clear, but beyond that Ginny did not have the faintest idea of where she was. From the appearance of the stone walls and the high, expansive ceiling, it seemed that she must be in a castle like Hogwarts; yet there was something about it that made the hairs of her neck stand on end. This place was sinister--dark, foreboding, filled with malice, the air charged with a tension that seemed to penetrate the very essence of her being, weighing in on her from all sides.
Suits of armour lined the corridor where she stood, their dark, faceless masks illuminated only by a faint green glow. Unlike at Hogwarts, there were no torches to be seen; the light, menacing and yet appealing in its softness, had no perceivable source. It did not waver or vary in brightness, yet seemed to pulsate with hidden energy, making it somehow familiar to her . . .
Ginny shivered, the sheer enormity of what she had done seeming suddenly to catch up with her. She was in Voldemort's lair, alone, beyond reach of any outside help, her only hope of escape the Portkey still clutched in her hand. No one had any idea where she was . . . though perhaps if Hermione were to tell the Order what she'd done, they would try to find her . . . but they would surely fail, since no one knew where Voldemort was hiding . . . Ginny felt a pang of guilt at the worry her rash decision to come here would surely cause. Her friends and family would be so upset--
Think of Harry, she told herself again, and all thoughts of regret and self-doubt fled from her mind. With luck, she'd be returning to Hogwarts with him very soon.
Looking around, Ginny wondered why the Portkey had deposited her in the middle of this empty corridor. Harry was nowhere to be seen--had the Room of Requirement made a mistake? Was he really dead after all? Or had it intentionally landed her some distance away, so she would not arrive amidst the dementors that were surely guarding him? Yes, that must be it, she decided; it wouldn't do to be Kissed the moment she appeared in front of Harry, before she had a chance to get oriented to her surroundings.
So that meant she would have to search this horrible castle until she found him. Breathing silently and deeply, Ginny set off down the corridor, taking extra care not to make a sound. She was glad she had thought to bring the Invisibility Cloak, as it was her only hope of remaining undetected. She just hoped it would be enough.
Shadows from the suits of armour cast heavily all along the walls. Despite her affinity for sneaking and darkness, Ginny could not repress a flickering of fear. The sight was truly intimidating . . . if they had been enchanted with some kind of Dark spell to destroy intruders--
To her immense relief, nothing happened as she walked past the first armoured figure. Feeling braver, she increased her pace, seeing a great staircase at the end of the corridor come into view.
How she knew Ginny could not quite say, even to herself, but it seemed right, somehow, that she should climb these stairs. Surely she would find what she was looking for at the top. She began to climb, and the staircase curved slowly around as she went. She realised she must be ascending to the top of a tall tower.
Footsteps were coming from up ahead. Ginny flattened herself against the wall, her muscles beginning to tense up. She held her breath as a shadow came into view on the wall, its source becoming visible a moment later: a short, fat man with watery eyes, whose hand was glowing with unnatural light. It was Wormtail.
Ginny gasped in shock at the sight of him--the man whose fault it was that Harry had been captured in the first place. She wanted nothing more than to curse him into a thousand slimy pieces for what he had done--
"Who's there?" Pettigrew said suddenly, peering about in a decidedly rodent-like fashion. Ginny cursed herself. If she couldn't remain silent, she was going to get herself killed . . . silently she drew her wand and aimed it at him from under the cloak. "Confundo," she whispered, and the suspicion on Pettigrew's face vanished as a blank look came into his eyes. "Go about your business," he murmured quietly, beginning to make his way down the stairs again. The Confundus Charm had quieted his alarm and suspicion, and he looked neither to the left nor the right as he went. Ginny waited until she could no longer hear his footsteps, then started up the stairs once more.
On and on she climbed, the staircase curving around endlessly, until she was sure that she must have been a mile above the ground. At last, she came to the final step, and knew immediately that she had come to the right place.
The stairs had levelled off into another corridor, this one fairly short. At the end was a large door set in the black stone of the wall. On either side of the door were two stone pillars, enormous snakes carved into them. Their eyes, glowing with the same strange light that illuminated the corridors, seemed to follow her as she approached. Ginny stared back into the eyes, wondering how they could see her through the Invisibility Cloak, if they could really see her at all. Was her mind playing tricks on her? What did she have to do to get through the door? And what would happen if she could not?
Sirius' knife! she thought suddenly. It had been destroyed in the Department of Mysteries, but the Room of Requirement had restored it. She had no idea what its capabilities and limitations really were, but it was worth a shot, anyway.
Pulling the knife from her pocket, she advanced forward to the door. But before she got there, a sudden force erupted between the two pillars, preventing her from going any further. The eyes of the snakes had become a brilliant, sinister shade of green, and a faint whispering could be heard. Ginny strained to hear what the voices were saying. She could not make out any words, but there was purpose and meaning behind them, if only she could listen closely enough to read it . . .
Almost without thinking, Ginny raised Sirius' knife in her hand. Let me pass. She was not sure if she had spoken the words aloud or merely thought them. The knife began to glow with a strange blue light, and abruptly the barrier between the pillars vanished. Amazed but relieved, Ginny walked slowly forward, and the stone door slid open, a sudden of gust of cold air flooding over her. Through the door she could see nothing but empty blackness . . . but a faint sound of rattling breaths was coming from somewhere ahead . . .
"Lumos," she said quietly, stepping through the door and into the night.
The door slid closed behind her. Ginny raised her wand, shining its light ahead of her, and felt a chill as the wind swept over her body, cutting through the robes she wore. But that was nothing compared to the ice that was beginning to flood her insides, weakening her limbs and filling her with fear. By the light of the spell she could see at least ten hooded figures, cloaked in shadow, and felt their hungry, sightless gaze piercing her flesh.
She could hear Tom Riddle mocking her as she lay dying in the Chamber of Secrets . . . her mother was crying out in agony as Percy tortured her against his will . . . a rooster was squawking and thrashing madly in front of her, struggling to free itself as she wrung its neck . . .
NO! She'd come all this way, she couldn't let herself succumb to the dementors now, not when she was so close to achieving her goal . . . She forced herself to think of Harry, remembered how happy she'd felt as they sat together in the forest all those weeks ago, his arm around her and her head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body against hers, when nothing mattered except the two of them together--
"Expecto Patronum!" she cried, a surge of power she'd never felt before flashing through her for an instant. An enormous silver something burst from her wand, falling to the ground and sliding quickly forward, snapping at the dementors as it went. Ginny stared after it in shock, unnerved at the form it had taken.
The dementors were being driven back as the Patronus herded them away from her. Suddenly, they vanished from view, and Ginny heard an awful, high-pitched wailing, which faded quickly as it dropped away into the night. She'd never known dementors to make a sound like that before . . .
The horrible cold was leaving her, and through the dark clouds Ginny could see the stars coming out overhead. She realised that she was outside, on the roof of the tower she had climbed.
She looked once again at the shining silver serpent, which had driven the dementors right over the edge of the tower, meeting its slightly sardonic gaze just before it faded away. At that moment Ginny realised that she didn't care what form her Patronus took. If it helped her save Harry, then that made it one of the most beautiful sights she'd ever seen . . .
Directly ahead of her, Ginny saw a large stone pillar, set in the centre of the tower roof. And chained to the pillar--
"Harry!" she cried, pulling off the Invisibility Cloak and rushing towards him. "Oh God, Harry--"
Harry looked awful--his skin was deathly pale, his hair even more ragged and messy than usual, and there were enormous bags under his eyes. He was completely soaked, as was the ground all around her; evidently it had been pouring rain not long before. Ginny saw with horror that there were severe burn marks on his arms, and he did not appear to be breathing. What had they done to him? What hell and torment had he been forced to undergo?
Please don't let him be dead, she thought frantically. If she'd came all this way just to find that he'd already died--
How could anyone dream of doing such a thing to Harry? With a scream of rage and anguish, Ginny drew Sirius' knife and slashed it through the chains on his wrists. Harry's body collapsed at once, deprived of its sole means of support, and Ginny caught him in her arms as he fell, easing him slowly to the ground.
"Harry," she breathed. "Wake up. Please don't be dead. Please wake up . . ." She shook him gently, cupping her hand along the side of his face. His skin was frightfully cold.
A faint moan came from his lips, and Ginny breathed an enormous sigh of relief. He was still alive! She could feel herself trembling as she saw his eyes open.
"Harry," she said again, caressing his face tenderly, overcome with emotion. Harry's eyes seemed to focus, and he looked up at her in wonder.
"Ginny," he rasped, his voice hoarse and dry. "You're here." Ginny smiled at the words. "Yes, Harry, I'm here," she said softly.
Harry's hand reached up towards her, and Ginny clasped it firmly in her own. "I thought I must be dreaming," Harry said faintly. "I couldn't--I couldn't even remember--"
He broke off, as a sudden coughing spell overtook him. He shivered violently, struggling to draw breath, and Ginny felt as though her heart were being torn in two. She pulled him closer, enveloping him in her embrace, trying to put all that she felt for him into that one gesture, to let him know how desperately she wanted and needed him . . .
Slowly, Harry's shivering subsided, and he lifted his head from her lap. Ginny handed him his glasses, and he looked around--probably seeing his surroundings for the first time, she realised. As he was still soaking wet, she performed a drying charm on his robes, which began to steam. Harry regarded the mountains surrounding the castle for a few moments, then turned back to her in amazement. "You came all the way out here to find me?" he asked, surprise evident on his face. "How did you get here? And how are we going to get out?"
"A Portkey," Ginny answered. "Everyone thought you were dead, they didn't have any idea where to look--"
"They must have tried to stop you," said Harry, a very strange expression on his face.
"Yes," Ginny whispered, remembering how nearly Hermione had prevented her from leaving. "But I just knew I had to find you--I could never have lived with myself if I hadn't--"
She broke off, feeling the penetrating stare of his eyes on her, and looked away. "We've got to get out of here." Retrieving the sock from her robes, she extended a hand to Harry, helping him to his feet, and they both grasped the sock firmly.
"That's an interesting Portkey," said Harry, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Ginny laughed. "Don't blame me; blame the Room of Requirement. I didn't pick what it would be." She glanced up at him, and shuddered at seeing the brightness in his eyes. She swallowed, her hand trembling slightly. "You ready?" she asked quietly, and Harry nodded his assent.
Ginny raised her wand, aimed it at the sock held between them. "One, two--"
She never made it to three. Harry's scream pierced the night, and he fell to the ground, clutching the scar in his hands. Ginny stared at him in horror.
"Harry!" she cried, flinging aside the sock and the cloak and taking him in her arms. "Harry, what's happening?"
Harry gasped for breath where he lay on the ground. "Ginny, he's here, he knows," he moaned, looking about him wildly. "Got to get out of--"
A chill of dread ran down her spine. Desperately she lunged for the sock she'd dropped--
"Incendio!" said a cold voice, and abruptly the sock burst into flames.
Shit! Ginny quickly pulled her hand back, barely avoiding being burned from the searing heat. The Portkey was destroyed--they had no way out now--
An acrid smell filled the air, and for one wild moment it reminded her of Mundungus smoking his awful pipe. Looking around, she saw a black-robed figure standing about fifteen feet away. Its face was almost completely obscured by the hood, but Ginny saw, to her horror, that there were two faint points of red light where there should have been eyes. She had never seen eyes like that before, but knew beyond doubt that it could mean only one thing . . .
Voldemort.
A paralyzing fear took her, and for a moment Ginny could do nothing but stare at the red-eyed figure. This man had been the cause of so much death, so much destruction . . . the diary she'd confided in had been created by this monster . . . they were going to die . . .
The Dark Lord was looking from her to Harry and back, and it seemed to Ginny that he must be confused by what he saw. For a long moment no one moved as they regarded each other in silence.
Ginny weighed her options. They were, unfortunately, vastly limited. There was nowhere to run, and if they tried to fight, they would surely be killed. If Dumbledore himself could not defeat him in a duel, what chance did they have?
At last, the dark-robed figure spoke, his quiet voice filled with menace. "Well, leaving so soon, are we, Potter? I take it you've had your fill of my hospitality? Now, we can't have that . . ."
"And I'm afraid I don't know who you are," Voldemort continued, fixing his gaze on Ginny, "though I daresay you know who I am. Have you come to join us? We've been having such fun, Potter and I. Though there's always room for more, of course . . . the dementors are not very picky in their appetites, I'm afraid . . ." A sardonic smile was playing on his lips. Ginny felt a surge of anger.
"My name's Ginny Weasley," she bit out, covering him with her wand as she got quickly to her feet, "and I'm not afraid of you, Voldemort." It was the first time she had ever spoken the name aloud. She was trying to provoke him, to get him angry enough to make a mistake, to do anything to catch him off guard.
Voldemort, however, merely regarded her with interest.
"Yes, I surmised from the hair that you were a Weasley," he said softly, his unnaturally red eyes boring into her. Ginny stared back defiantly, determined not to show fear or weakness, though in reality she was more afraid than she had ever been in her life . . .
"So you're the one that Lucius gave my diary to," said Voldemort after a moment. Ginny blinked. How did he know--
"Oh, yes, I know all about that, girl . . . your precious Potter had to save you--and now you've come here to save him? How sweet." His mocking laughter echoed all around them, and Ginny cursed herself for her foolishness as realisation struck. Of course, Voldemort was a Legilimens--he could see into her mind with no effort at all. How could she have forgotten that? What other things had he seen there?
She took a deep breath, running through the Occlumency techniques she'd learned from Harry, determined not to give anything else away. If Voldemort found out about the Prophecy from her . . . it would be an unprecedented disaster.
Beside her, Harry was getting slowly to his feet. Ginny shot him a quick glance, remembering that she had his wand in her robe, but did not dare try to give it to him. She had to keep Voldemort busy, until they could find some way to escape.
"You know, there really is something familiar about all of this," said Voldemort, his voice cruelly delighted and almost wistful. "Standing here, the three of us--why, it's just like old times! You even look something like them . . . yes, three times they defied me, the Potters, but I killed them in the end . . ."
He stepped closer, and Ginny was shocked at the grotesque mockery of the human face that she saw there--he looked nothing at all like the Riddle she remembered.
"Harry's fought you before," she snapped, her voice sounding much braver than she actually felt. "And he'll do it again. Even now, you couldn't bring yourself to kill him, because you know you can't beat him, don't you?" Beside her Harry was murmuring something under his breath, his shoulders slumped in a posture of defeat. Somewhere in her head an urgent voice was telling her to stop talking, that she was a fool to tempt Voldemort's anger that way, but she plunged recklessly on. "I know all about you. You're nothing. Just a madman with an ego trip out to prove to world that he's better than everyone else--"
"Silence, foolish girl!" snarled Voldemort, his mocking demeanour abruptly gone. "Don't speak of what you don't understand!" His wand was aimed suddenly at Harry, almost before Ginny had even seen him move. "You think your precious Potter can defeat me? I will show you true power, girl, and the both of you will beg for death before the end! Witness the full power of your glorious saviour against that of Lord Voldemort. Crucio!"
The air was filled with the sound of Harry's yells as he fell to the ground again, thrashing about in agony. Ginny watched in horror, feeling her heart being torn into shreds at the sight of him in pain. "No!" she cried. She had to stop this, she had to protect him--
"Stupefy!" she shouted, aiming her wand at Voldemort. There was a loud bang and a brilliant flash of red light--
Faster than she would have thought possible, the Dark Lord waved his wand, swatting the bolt away to one side. He had not even uttered an incantation. Ginny's eyes widened in fear as the wand moved to point directly at her face.
"So, you resist," said Voldemort with an air of mild disinterest, as though he were casually observing the texture of a piece of fruit before eating it. "Apparently I haven't yet convinced you how hopeless it is to defy me . . . perhaps you would like a dose of pain as well?"
Desperately Ginny raised her wand again. "Everb--"
"Crucio!"
It was pain beyond anything she had ever experienced, beyond anything she could have ever conceived of. A scream was torn from her throat as she collapsed to the ground, her wand slipping from her hand and rolling away. She was sure that her insides were being ripped apart from the force of the spell . . . her entire body must surely be on fire . . . she could hear Harry crying out again in pain of his own beside her . . .
"Now, isn't this interesting?" said Voldemort, his high-pitched laughter echoing all around them as he lifted the curse. "I can torture you both at once, thanks to Mr. Potter's most unusual mind . . . which reminds me, Potter . . . you haven't told me the Prophecy yet. Are you going to tell me what it says, so we can end this game? Or must I resort to more drastic measures?" His voice was suddenly harsh, and Ginny was gripped with fear at the thought of what he could mean. The Cruciatus Curse was the worst thing she had ever felt; she couldn't imagine how it could get any worse than that . . . already she felt as if she would do anything not to feel that terrible pain again . . . they were going to die anyway, they might as well tell him the Prophecy and be done with it . . .
"Let Ginny go," came Harry's voice beside her, broken and defeated. "Let her go, and I'll tell you whatever you want."
Ginny shuddered at the pain and desperation in his voice. No, she thought. They couldn't do that, they couldn't give up--
"Don't do it, Harry," she gasped. "Don't give him what he wants!"
"Well, Potter, it seems you have an interesting choice," said Voldemort grimly. "You can either tell me, now, or you can watch the girl die a slow death in front of you. Which will it be, Potter? Don't you see how pointless it is to fight me?"
So this is the end, Ginny thought with a mixture of fear and resignation. I couldn't save Harry, but at least now we'll die together . . . She managed to turn her head to the left and met Harry's gaze, his face sick with fear and horror. She drew in a shaky breath as a storm of emotion flooded through her, feelings not entirely her own--
"Suffoco."
Ginny choked, fighting for air as her windpipe forcibly constricted. She couldn't breathe . . .
Voldemort was saying something, but she couldn't make out what it was. Her vision was clouding, and she was becoming light-headed, the need for air overriding conscious thought . . .
And then an idea struck, born of animal reserves of fear and desperation. She groped her hand through her robes, searching wildly--and closed it around the matchbox she'd found in the Room of Requirement and forgotten about. She managed to remove one of the matches, raising her hand towards Voldemort.
"Go to hell," she ground out, not completely sure of what she had said or what she was doing. Through the haze clouding her mind she registered a loud bang, and a flash of sickly yellow light--
And then she could breathe again, the curse lifted. Raising her head, she saw Voldemort staggering backwards, clutching his face. Had not the situation been so serious she would have laughed--he had been hit with the most brutal, vicious Bat-Bogey Hex that she'd ever seen. He yelled in pain as dozens of enormous flying bogeys pelted his face with almost unimaginable force.
There was a sudden movement beside her, and Ginny turned to see Harry diving for her fallen wand on the ground. "Stupefy!" he roared, aiming it at Voldemort.
Inundated by flying bogeys as he was, the Dark Lord could not block the spell in time. It caught him square in the chest.
Slowly, Harry lowered the wand, letting out an enormous sigh of relief. Voldemort remained motionless on the ground, the bogeys continuing their assault on his face. Satisfied that they were out of danger, he turned to face Ginny, who was sitting up next to him, clutching her throat and breathing raggedly. "You all right?" he asked. She looked up at him and nodded.
"Nice shot," she said faintly, taking his extended hand and getting awkwardly to her feet.
"You too," said Harry. He eyed the matchstick in her hand. "What is that, anyway?"
"A Mini-Wand," said Ginny. "Fred and George invented them. After . . . after Percy died, they told me they wanted to come up with something so that we could protect ourselves . . . if we were ever caught and disarmed again. These must be prototypes, because the last I heard they were still developing them. I got them from the Room of Requirement." Harry could see her trembling as she spoke. They looked at each other in silence for a moment.
"Ginny, I . . ."
He trailed off. Ginny glanced away from him. "Don't thank me just yet," she said, and there was the faintest trace of bitterness in her voice. "If I'd been smarter we'd be back at Hogwarts by now. I should have used the Portkey the moment I cut you loose--"
Harry exhaled sharply. "Well, we'll just have to find some other way out of here, then."
"Yeah." She looked around, swallowing apprehensively. "But unless you want to jump off the edge of the tower, then the only way off this roof is through that door, back into the castle. And we're up in the mountains--the only way I can think of to get out of here is with Floo powder, if we can find some. But I suppose we've got to try, haven't we?"
She reached into her robes. "I believe this is yours," she said, holding out his wand. Harry took it and gave hers back to her. It felt good to have his wand back--he hadn't felt so powerless since he'd faced Voldemort in that graveyard two years before. Seeing Ginny in pain had been one of the worst experiences of his entire life, and it was only through sheer luck that they'd come out of this alive.
And speaking of facing Voldemort . . .
He turned and looked again at the Dark Lord, sprawled over the ground ten feet away, and then down at his wand, held tightly in his hand. And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives . . .
"Harry?" came Ginny's concerned voice from behind him. He shivered, but did not reply. Should he do it? He had him now, completely at his mercy. Two words and he could end it, rid the world of this great evil once and for all. There might never again be such an opportunity.
But to kill him like this, powerless and unaware . . .
Voldemort had cheated death once before, hadn't he? Who was to say he couldn't do it again? The curse might not even work at all. He shall have power the Dark Lord knows not . . .
Harry let out his breath angrily. He didn't have any power; he didn't have a clue how to destroy Voldemort any other way than this. But it had to be done . . . just one death, to prevent countless other deaths in the future . . . it was the right thing to do . . . wasn't it?
He never got to make the choice. Ginny gasped suddenly and clutched his arm, and Harry stiffened in shock as the sound of hissing filled the air. An enormous serpent had appeared in front of the stone doors by the far wall, and was slowly making its way towards them. It reared up, baring its long, wicked fangs, and hissed menacingly again. Harry felt a stab of fear as he remembered how this very snake had circled around him in that graveyard, and how he had felt himself inside its body as it tried to kill Mr. Weasley the year before.
He raised his wand defensively, taking a step backwards. "Stupefy!" The spell struck the serpent right below the head. Its skin shimmered and glowed where the spell had hit, and a strange rippling expanded outward through its scales--but otherwise there was no effect. The serpent hissed angrily, and abruptly turned around and slithered quickly away from them. With great speed it reached the Dark Lord, still unconscious on the ground, and lowered its head towards him, appearing to sink its fangs into his neck.
Harry gasped as he realised what was happening. "Run!" He and Ginny made a dash towards the stone door, which slid open as they approached. His scar flared with sudden pain--
"Everboro!" he shouted, wheeling around, even as a cold voice said, "Avada Kedavra!"
Harry was faster; the Bludgeoning Spell exploded from his wand, catching Voldemort in the stomach. He and Ginny ducked instinctively as the Killing Curse sailed harmlessly over their heads, and was absorbed into the black stone of the door. The Dark Lord grunted in pain as he was hurled backwards through the air, crashing spectacularly into the pillar to which Harry had been chained earlier, and collapsed to the ground. He seemed to have been winded, but doubtless he'd be on his feet again in a few seconds--
"Accio!" cried Ginny, and Invisibility Cloak soared into her outstretched hand from where it had fallen. "Come on!" she said urgently, grabbing hold of his arm and pulling him unceremoniously through the door. As they passed between the two stone pillars lining the door from the inside, a high-pitched wailing sound was heard, and glancing over his shoulder, Harry saw that the eyes of the snakes carved into them were shining with a brilliant, sinister green light. His heart was pounding frightfully as they ran, on and on, down the curving staircase.
After what seemed like hours of running, they reached the bottom the stairs. Harry looked around, trying to catch his breath, his eyes taking in the imposing armoured figures lining the corridor ahead of them, wondering at the dim light that seemed to have no source but the air itself.
"What now?" he said, turning towards Ginny, who also was looking at their surroundings.
"I don't know!" she said, her face stricken. "The Portkey brought me in right over there," she pointed at a spot a ways down the corridor, "but I don't know where we should go now. I don't know what the rest of this place is like."
"Well, we can't stay here, anyway, or we'll be found," said Harry, fighting to remain calm despite the whine of panic threatening to overwhelm him. "We'll have to make sure no one sees us, or we won't have a chance in hell of getting out. Give me the cloak." She did, and he wrapped it around them both. "Let's go," he said softly, and they set off down the corridor, taking care to be as silent as possible.
As they reached the end of the corridor, Harry's scar began to burn. He stopped, wincing, and clapped his hands to his forehead, struggling not to cry out from the pain of it. The cloak nearly slid off them as Ginny turned towards him in surprise, not having stopped when he did. Quickly she wrapped it around them both once more.
"Harry? What is it?" she asked in a whisper. "Your scar?" He nodded silently.
"Voldemort's angry," he muttered. It was about their escape, of course, but beyond that he could not tell what specifically was going on.
A sudden idea occurred to him. The scar connection had been diminished from all the Occlumency he'd been doing lately--but with Voldemort's repeated attempts to invade his mind, it seemed to have opened up again somewhat. Always before it had been Voldemort who took advantage of the connection, using it against Harry for his own purposes . . . but perhaps if Harry could open himself up, he could do the same . . .
He took a deep breath, willing himself to be calm. He'd been putting so much effort into protecting himself that the idea of going the other way was frightening. But if he could just do it a little bit, Voldemort might not ever know he was there.
He closed his eyes, remembering how it had felt to be in Voldemort's head, all those times he had dreamed of him unobserved. And then it came to him--flashes of imagery and sound, whirling by at high speed . . . an angry, shouting voice . . . a group of masked figures standing in a circle . . . his scar was hurting as a sudden rage swept over him . . .
Gasping, Harry broke the connection, forcing his mind to go blank once more. The pain in his head began to fade. That had been very close--at the last instant Voldemort had felt his presence, but Harry had blocked him out before he could locate them.
"Harry?" came Ginny's voice again. He swallowed, blinking the wetness from his eyes.
"Voldemort's summoned all the Death Eaters to him," he whispered back. "He's sending them after us right now." He did not mention that he had come very close to giving them away.
Ginny's eyes widened. "We'd better get going, then." She looked around. "Which way?"
Harry looked, and saw that the corridor had intersected another ahead of them. "We'll try the right, I guess," he said quietly. Ginny nodded, and they set off again, turning and continuing on to the right. It looked almost identical to the corridor they had just left.
Harry felt as if his senses had gone into overdrive. He could feel Ginny's body pressing against his, could hear her breathing heavily next to him. He shivered, his own breathing ragged, his limbs charged and tense. Something prickly seemed to crawling all over his skin. The air was oppressive, weighing in on him heavily. He felt confined under the cloak, knowing that their lives depended on remaining silent and unseen.
How much longer could they keep this up? Harry had no concept of where they were, had no idea where they would be able to find a place to Floo out of here. If they couldn't find an exit, they'd be stuck here forever, just waiting to be caught . . . if only he knew how to Apparate, or to make a Portkey . . .
His scar was hurting again. He took a steadying breath, running through his Occlumency exercises. The pain lessened, and he felt himself become slightly calmer. It was essential that he keep Voldemort out of his mind, or else he'd be able to Apparate right in front of them--and then they would surely die.
Footsteps could be heard approaching from behind. Harry looked at Ginny, who was staring right back at him, a look of horror on her face. Quickly they moved to the side of the corridor, flattening themselves against the wall next to a suit of armour. Harry eyed it warily for a moment, then turned his attention to the figures entering the corridor.
There were four of them, hooded and masked, their wands drawn and ready as they advanced. Harry heard voices, and strained to hear what they were saying.
"They can't have gotten far. The Dark Lord said they were up in the tower not ten minutes ago," said one.
"They'll never make it out of here alive. They don't know where they're going--it's only a matter of time before we find them," said another. Harry's head bolted up in shock as he recognised the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange.
He felt himself shaking, his grip on his wand almost painfully tight. How he would like to hurt her for what she'd done . . . he had the element of surprise, he could take them all down right now . . .
A hand settled itself over his, and he turned his head to see Ginny looking at him, an unspoken warning in her eyes. Harry let out a long, slow breath, nodding at her to show he understood. Some of the tension left him.
The Death Eaters were passing them now, continuing on in the opposite direction. They were had nearly rounded the corner when one of them turned around. "What's the snake doing?"
Harry froze. Then, very slowly, he turned his head to the right, towards the place the Death Eater was pointing at. He barely managed to stop himself from yelling in fright.
Nagini, Voldemort's giant serpent, was sliding smoothly along the floor not ten feet from where they stood, smelling the air with forked tongue. And furthermore, despite the Invisibility Cloak, its hungry gaze was fixed squarely on Harry.
The Death Eaters were coming back towards them, their wands raised, and Harry could not think, could not move for fear. They were trapped . . .
He could feel Ginny trembling, tightening her grip on his hand, and he squeezed back with a reassurance he did not feel at all. What were they going to do?
He had no idea.
Note: I once again thank St. Margarets for helping me to make this chapter the best it could be. It's always fun to talk about the ethics of revenge and killing, from Harry all the way to Dostoevsky. Credit for the Mini-Wands goes to the twin goddesses ivy & Gracie, who allowed me to borrow the concept. The idea first appeared in their excellent fic, "Where the Light Is", which can be found at the Sugar Quill.